


Fathers and Sons

by Center_of_the_Galaxy



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Sully is a reluctant dad, dad issues, uncharted 4 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24135853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Center_of_the_Galaxy/pseuds/Center_of_the_Galaxy
Summary: Sully never considered himself to be a fatherly figure.Yet somehow, he ended up with two sons.*A bond throughout the years*
Relationships: Nathan Drake & Samuel Drake, Nathan Drake & Victor Sullivan, Samuel Drake & Victor Sullivan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 63





	Fathers and Sons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kurikku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurikku/gifts).



> Written as part of my fic exchange with the lovely Regina! Thank you so much!

Victor Sullivan never considered himself to be the fatherly type.

Indeed, his own family hadn’t been the best to be brought up in and frankly, he hated his own father with a passion. Leaving home at sixteen had been the best choice he’d ever made. He’d drifted through life then, doing odd jobs and procuring artifacts for rich investors with way too much time on their hands.

Yet, he found one boy on the streets of Venezuela and suddenly, Victor found himself acting more and more like the one thing he swore he’d never be—

A father.

It takes him more than a month to get Nate to feel comfortable around him, the teen slowly beginning to open up. His past remains a touchy subject—Sully gets more half-truths and subtle lies than he’d ever expected a kid to come up with—but he does admit, softly, one day that he has an older brother, currently in jail serving time on a theft charge.

“He stole us food,” Nate explains quietly one night as they make dinner in the small house they’re renting, “And they caught him.”

Sully nods, trying to process this bombshell. Quietly, he asks, “When he’s released, what are you two going to do, kid?”

Nate thinks, much harder than any boy his age should, “Could . . . I mean, we should stay together,” He pauses, “With you?”

And that’s how Sully becomes a father of two.

* * *

He doesn’t trust Samuel Drake.

The kid has a mean streak and has more secrets hidden in his smirk than some of the hardened criminals Sully has come into contact with. Still, it’s clear Sam and his brother adore each other, both willing to do anything to keep the other safe. They have a secret code it seems, all secret glances and unspoken words.

The trio get a bigger house, this time in England, chasing down a sword for one of Sully’s clients. He has to work harder now with two more mouths to feed—it’s amazing how quickly you can go through money when kids are involved—but he doesn’t mind, not really since he’s no longer in cold and empty rooms, all alone.

“We can work,” Samuel tells him one day, out of the blue. He gestures to the books littering Sully’s desk, “We know stuff like that.”

Victor arches an eyebrow, “I know you know Latin, but—”

Samuel chuckles, pulling up a chair and sitting, “We know a lot more than that.” He picks up one of the books and thumbs through it, “Chasing down one of the knights of the Round Table?”

Sully shrugs, “Not me. A rich client.”

“But you’re procuring the item for the client?”

“That’s how I pay the bills, kid.”

Samuel says nothing for the longest time, but then nods his head, seemingly his mind made up.

“Take me and Nate with you.”

Sully blinks, “What?”

“Take us with you,” Samuel repeats, a self-assured grin playing on his lips, “We can earn our keep.”

Sully starts to protest, “It’s dangerous and—”

Samuel interjects, “You met my brother in Colombia,” He chuckles darkly, “We’ve been through worse.”

There’s a million ways for Sully to interpret that statement. Part of him worries, wondering what kind of trauma these brothers have been through. The other part of him wants nothing to do with the kids. This is business, after all, and Sully has a reputation to maintain.

Still . . . it would help to have a few more eyes and hands on this job.

He sighs, pushing a book forward, “Fine. Take a look.”

Sam devours the book, flipping through the pages and scanning it carefully for any clues. When he glances back up, he tells Sully, “We’re going to France.”

“What?”

The teen just smirks, “Pack your bags.”

* * *

Turns out that Samuel and Nate are born treasure hunters. Between the two of them, they seem to be able to solve any puzzle or hunt down any clue. They’re ten times the treasure hunters he’s ever been. One day, with enough study and finessing, they’ll surpass him.

In record time, they track down the missing sword and deliver it to the client. They have enough money now to last for a few months now at least and honestly, Sully has never been one to budget before but he finds himself doing so now, wondering if he should start saving up for school tuition or medical expenses and—

Shit.

When had he become such a parent? 

* * *

It takes him awhile to warm up to Samuel.

Unlike his brother, Samuel Drake is more jaded, more prone to hide behind a visage of sarcasm than to reveal what he’s really thinking. Really, Sully understands why Samuel wouldn’t trust him. Their family life has been crappy and there’s more fucked-up memories there than Sully can imagine.

Still, he tries to get closer to the older Drake brother.

“You don’t need to try so hard,” Sam tells him softly, “I don’t need a dad, Sully.”

Sully chuckles and pours two drinks. He slides the glass toward the younger man, “I’m not looking for a son.”

“Right. Cause you’ve got, Nate.”

There, a hint of jealously coloring his tone.

“No,” Sully insists, “Look, Sam, I know you and I haven’t really gotten off on the right foot.” He sips his whisky, savoring the flavor, “But I’m not your enemy.”

Sam chuckles dryly, “I know, Sully.”

“What do you want, Sam?”

“The fuck is this? You my shrink now, Sullivan?”

He narrows his gaze, “I mean it. What do you want?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then, tell you what, when you figure it out, you let me know. If I can help you, I will.”

Samuel nods and somehow, a bond is formed.

* * *

Time passes as time does.

Nate is now eighteen and Samuel is twenty-three and God help him, the two of them are more trouble than he ever could’ve imagined two boys to be. Sully is constantly bailing them out of jail or scrapes or helping them avoid fights—mostly because Sam can’t keep his hands off a pretty girl and Nate tends to follow suit—and Sully honestly feels like he’s aged more in these past few years than a lifetime of near-deaths in far off lands.

Nate is homeschooled—well, Sully tries—but the kid is bright and when they’re not traipsing the world, he does study diligently. He manages to graduate somehow—with honors!—and for a brief second, Sully wonders if he’ll consider college. The kid is that smart and Sully can see him being professor somewhere, charming coeds and writing papers on obscure history facts that only he would know about.

“C’mon Sully,” Nate scoffs, “College? Really?”

Sully smirks, “Kid, you could do it.”

Samuel shakes his head, “Shit, Sullivan, you think college would be a good fit for him?”

Sully narrows his gaze. Sam’s gotten cockier over the years and shifter. There’s something about the young man, something oddly sinister that Sully can’t quite place. He knows the kid would die for his baby brother, but Sully wonders if one day if Samuel will sell him out.

“You’ve got brains, Nate,” He replies, then gestures to Samuel, “Unlike your knucklehead brother there.”

“Hey!” Samuel exclaims, “I got brains.”

“Really?” Sully presses.

“Really,” Samuel answers, “Who was the one that bailed you out of that Columbia job?”

Ah, the Columbia job.

Sully has got to stop taking easy jobs. They never turn out to be easy. In respect to the Columbia job, Sully ended up tied up and almost shot before Samuel caused a distraction and Nate snuck in and freed him. They barely escape with their lives, but thanks to the quick thinking of the brothers, they also made out with the manuscript their client wanted.

All in all, it was a victory.

“And I thanked you,” Sully lights up his cigar, savoring that first hit of nicotine, “But, kid, honestly, you wanna be shot at your whole life?”

Nate furrows his brow, “I don’t know, Sully. Not sure I’m cut out for the whole campus lifestyle.”

Samuel claps his hand on his brother’s back, beaming, “That’s right. It’s us against the world, brother.”

Nate just grins and Sully knows that this battle has been lost.

It stings a bit. He’s grown fond of both of these boys. He knows this life and it always ends bloody. Either you double cross the wrong guy and end up in a ditch somewhere or you spend your life looking over your shoulder, wondering if someone is going to come take what you stole so many years ago.

Sully knew what he’d been getting into. He hadn’t had a family or anyone to look out for. It would be okay for him to live this dangerous lifestyle.

But now, he’s a dad, maybe not in the traditional sense, but he feels responsible for them. He’s raised them, tried to instruct them in good values (and bad ones too, he’s not a saint for Christ’s sake) and he loves them.

They’re his kids.

Everyone who knows him in the business knows not to mess with them or they’ll face his wrath. He has a reputation still, thankfully, something to help curb all the threats. But one day, it won’t be enough and the boys will have to stand on their own feet.

Still, for now, if he can keep them safe, he will.

College could be a safe haven for Nate. It could give him a chance at a legitimate job and a real life free of almost getting shot. If Nate went to school, Samuel would too—those boys refuse to be separated from each other.

Sully forces a tight grin on his lips, “Right. What could go wrong?”

* * *

Blood.

So much blood.

“Jesus Christ,” Sully curses, trying to keep his heart from exploding out of his chest, “Hang on, kid, just hang on.”

Nate’s eyes are glassy, blood staining his shirt a cruel shade of crimson. Even now, outside of this small shack where Sully has managed to drag the kid, he can hear gunfire. Samuel is trying to provide cover, but he’s outnumbered.

They need to get out of here and get Nate help.

Fast.

“Easy job,” Nate slurs, through bloody teeth, his cracked lips a twisted parody of a smirk, “Quick payday, Nate.”

“Fuck, kid,” Sully forces himself to chuckles, to play along, to pretend like everything is under control when it obviously isn’t, “Didn’t think we’d piss off a maniac.”

Nate tries to laugh, but it dissolves into a wet cough, blood splattering, “Shot me.”

“Yeah, Nate, I know.” Sully rips off a piece of his shirt, tying it tightly around the wound, apologizing when Nate winces.

“Sully?” Nate meets his gaze, eyes wide, scared, “Sorry.”

Sully feels a lump in his throat and he swallows, trying to be a rock, “Not your fault, Nate. You just keep those eyes open. We’ll laugh about this in a few weeks.”

Nate nods, but his movements are uncoordinated and sloppy.

Samuel runs in, panting, concern etched on his face, “How is he?”

Sully lies, “Kid’s gonna be fine,” He hears distant shouts in a foreign language. They’re running out of time. “We got an exit strategy?”

Samuel nods frantically, “Yeah. Out back. A jeep. Can he move?”

Sully may be getting up in years, but he’s still spry enough to help carry Nate. He looks so small like this, so childlike. It reminds him of that boy who pickpocketed his wallet on the streets of Columbia so long ago.

“Go!” Sully shouts, “Give us cover, I’ve got him.”

He’ll keep these boys safe if it’s the last thing he does.

* * *

Three days later, they’re laughing in a cramped hospital room, just like Sully predicted.

* * *

“You’re reckless, Samuel.”

“And you’re too cautious, Victor!”

Samuel is twenty-four and too fucking headstrong. He leaps before he looks, nearly gets his brother and him killed on every single outing and Sully is having a really hard time reminding himself why he even trusts this guy in the first place.

“Long as you’re doing jobs with me,” Sully hisses, “You will follow my lead. Is that clear?”

Nate looks on from the corner of their shared house, his arms folded across his chest, eyes downcast. Kid doesn’t want to pick a side and Sully gets it, but honestly, he can’t be neutral forever. 

“Then maybe I shouldn’t be doing jobs with you.”

Stunned silence.

“Sam,” Nate whispers, “Don’t—”

Samuel turns around, hurling words at his little brother, “I’m sick of this, Nate! We don’t need him!”

“Sam, just calm down,” Nate cautions, “Sully is right. You’ve been rushing into things without—”

“You’re the planner, Nate. I’m a doer. Look, we don’t need him. We can do this on our own!”

Nate looks at him, eyes wide and worried and it reminds him so much of the child he used to be. He wants to beg them to stay—that he can’t deal with the loneliness that was his life before—but his pride refuses.

He can’t force anyone to stay with him.

“What do you wanna do, kid?” Sully asks softly, “You gotta make your choice.”

Nate doesn’t speak. He simply stares at his brother, lets his gaze drift back to Sully.

* * *

Later, when they leave, Sully tries not to feel the pain of his heart shattering.

* * *

Days bleed into months and months drift into years.

Nate writes sometimes, telling Sully about their various adventures, but the letters are sporadic and short.

Sully is, what he considers to be, an empty nester. Still, there are bills to be paid and he goes back to his old life, consulting for various clients and procuring objects for others. He doesn’t pick jobs with too much danger in them anymore—there’s only so many times you can escape from being hit by gunfire without tempting fate—but he does enough to build up a nest egg.

He wonders, a lot, about how his boys are doing.

He’s a sap.

* * *

And then they’re back.

Samuel and Nate stand in the middle of his beach house and Sully feels his heart soar. He hugs them both, probably too tightly, but it feels nice to have them back with him.

In the kitchen that night, Samuel finds him.

They haven’t spoken in years, but Samuel at least shows some contrition in his expression. Softly, he says, “I’m sorry, Victor.”

Sully smiles, offering his hand, “I’m glad you’re back, kid.”

Sam chuckles, “Me too, Sully.”

And the world spins once again.

* * *

Sully never should’ve agreed to let them go with Rafe.

The whole thing had been a mess, a horrible mess, and he loses one son in the process.

Samuel is dead and the more Sully tries to wrap his brain around it, the more his heart cracks. Sadness eats him, trying to drown him, but he still has one son left, one son who needs him.

Nate is broken by the death of his brother. Shattered, really. For weeks, the kid barely eats, barely speaks and refuses to rest. He’s consumed by regrets, muttering constantly about how things could’ve been.

For his part, Sully finds the blame on his part. He hadn’t trusted Rafe when they met. He was shifty and he should’ve said so. He tried to, but Sam and Nate had been so excited and Sully had to admit, the plan had been solid.

Until Rafe fucked it up.

Now, he has one son and a hole in his heart and he’s got to keep moving.

For Nate’s sake, he has to be strong.

* * *

Nate never speaks of Samuel again.

* * *

But one day, years later, Samuel is before him once more.

He’s older now, scarred, but still wearing that familiar self-assured smirk on his lips. He’s got secrets, of that Sully is sure, but he’s alive and Nate is beaming and things seem good.

Sure, Elena has been lied to and Sully doesn’t agree with that, but really, he supposes he can forgive Nate’s mistakes for being so hasty. His brother is alive. All is well.

“How have you been, Sullivan?” Samuel asks him in the cramped hotel room while Nate stands outside, lying to his life.

“Ah, you know, same old, same old kid.”

Samuel pulls out a cigarette and lights it, a puff of smoke wafting, “Yeah? Tell me about it.”

“I’m sure Nate has already—”

“I wanna hear it from you, Sully.”

For a second, he sees the kid he first met in that man’s smile. He’s missed that kid. He may not know the man he’s become, but for now, he’s willing to let bygones be bygones.

Sully smirks, “Where do I start?”

Samuel grins, “Start at your favorite part.”

And Sully slowly begins to talk. 


End file.
